


We Have a Book for That

by NorthernWall



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Library AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 21:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15957854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernWall/pseuds/NorthernWall
Summary: Buccaneer never set out to be a children's librarian. It was more pushed on him than anything, but when he meets the older sister of his favorite young patron, he's more than glad it was.





	We Have a Book for That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illidria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/gifts).



> Happy birthday, my dear! I hope you enjoy this fic that you basically ghost-wrote for me. Thanks for answering all my questions all the time. ILY! <3
> 
> Happy reading, y'all!

If Buccaneer seemed an odd choice for a children’s librarian, it was for good reason: he  _ was _ an odd choice. He was a one-armed war veteran with the general appearance of a bear, so he definitely understood the double-takes he got. In fact, when the idea had first been suggested to him he had laughed in Miles’ face. 

“Me? A librarian?” He’d asked, when he could stop laughing. “Miles, I have dyslexia! I almost didn’t learn how to read.”

“But you did,” Miles had replied, sagely, “you could inspire the children.”

“I have a metal arm! They’ll think it’s scary.”

“You’ll show them it’s not. The kids will love you, you’ll see.”

“Well,” he’d thought for a minute, swigging hs beer, “it isn’t very manly is it?” Miles shot him an indignant look over the top of his own glass. “Er, no offense!”  

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He’d waved his hand, and the conversation had moved on.

He’d expected that to be the end of it. Miles, though, was nothing if not persistent and had stayed on his case about the entire time that he was in physical therapy for his new prosthetic arm, and when no other openings appeared, had put in a good word to help him get into the training and then hired. 

And so he found himself, day after day, at the reference desk in the children’s room of the library. It had bright woodland murals on the walls, low bookshelves, plenty of bean bags, and an abundance of children. He tied different bows in his braid everyday, and let his prosthetic be covered in stickers.

He supervised craft time (and got in trouble for not supervising the glitter as well as he should), helped pick books, led reading times, and generally tried to keep the children from destroying the library. He loved it. 

There were, of course, aspects of his job that he did not love. It was more work than a lot of people accounted for, long hours at times and paperwork. Then, sometimes there were problems with the children, themselves. Sometimes, they were cruel. To him, to each other, it depended on the day and the child. Then there were the children who someone else was cruel to, the ones who worried him, the ones who he wondered if he needed to call child protective services for. 

It was one of those children that started it all. Her name was Catherine and she came in for the reading programs regularly. She wore pristine outfits that matched from the frilly socks to the big bows on her head and was quite and well behaved. Perhaps  _ too  _ well behaved. She never joined in any of the games or crafts, even though he thought she wanted to. She could just be an uptight child, it happened, but he always worried about her.

The children’s room closed early. He always let any children who were alone in the library know that they would need to call their parents to come and get them and offered them the courtesy phone at the desk. Catherine always needed to use the phone. One day, it seemed no one was picking up. Her lip trembled as she tapped her fingers on the desk and waited.

“No luck?” He asked as she lowered the phone back into the cradle. She shook her head and he glanced at the clock. “Check back in five minutes, yeah?” 

She nodded silently, and crossed to sit on the bench by the door clutching her book bag to her chest and staring at the clock. He made his rounds around the library making sure there were no other children left and by the time he circled back around Catherine was standing by the desk, waiting to use the phone again. He handed it over, but it was more of the same and tears welled up in her big green eyes. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” He handed her a kleenex. “I’m sure they’re just busy.” She nodded, but didn’t seem comforted. He glanced at the clock again. “Who’d you call?”

“My m-mom.”

“Okay. Why don’t you try your dad?” She shook her head quickly and he scratched his head. “Is there anyone else you can try?”

She shook her head again and wiped her nose. He handed her another kleenex. She sniffed for a moment, then suddenly an idea seemed to come to her. She rifled in her bag and produced a card which she held out to him. “Big sis gave me this.”

He took it curiously. It was a business card reading “Olivier Armstrong, District Manager Briggs Medical Supplies”. 

“Is this your sister, then?” Catherine nodded. “Do you want me to call her?” She nodded again and he carefully punched in the numbers, holding the phone up to his ear. He wasn’t sure why Catherine wanted him to make the call, but he wasn’t about to argue with a crying child. 

“Armstrong here.” 

“Oh, uh, hello. My name’s Buccaneer I’m the children’s librarian at-”

“Is it Catherine? Is she alright? What-?”

“She’s fine, Miss. It’s just the library is about to close and she hasn’t been able to get in touch with her mom.”

Olivier swore colorfully and he jumped, no longer used to hearing that kind of language regularly. “I’m on the north edge of town, but I’ll come right down.” There was a lot of rattling and clattering as though she was pulling things together quickly. “Is the whole library closing or just the children’s section?”

“The children’s room closes now, but the main library will be open for another hour.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can you put Catherine on?” 

“Sure.” He handed the phone over and leaned back a little. He could still hear Olivier’s voice, though.

“Hey Cathy, sweetie, I’m going to come get you. The kid’s room is going to close now, so I want you to go and sit in the lobby, okay? Do you still have the money I gave you?” Catherine nodded. “Cathy?”

“I have it.” 

“Okay, good. Why don’t you buy a snack from the vending machine in the lobby and then you can read or color and I’ll be there before you know it.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Hand the phone back to the librarian please.”

Catherine held it out and he took it. “Hello?”

“I told her to wait for me in the lobby, is that alright?”

“That’s fine. I’ll keep an eye on her, too.”

“Hold onto my card. If my mom comes to get her before I get there, will you give me a call?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect. I’ll be right there.”

She hung up before he could say anything else and he shrugged, turning back to Catherine. “Alright, she’s on her way. Come on,” he got to his feet, “I’ll walk you to the lobby.” 

Catherine followed him out silently, hovering as he locked up the door, and reminding him a bit of a duckling as they made their way to the lobby. He stopped at the front desk where Miles gave him a curious look. He whispered an explanation as she kept going to the vending machine and began deliberating her choices. 

“Olivier Armstrong? As in _the_ Armstrongs?”      

“I, um, I didn’t ask.” 

“Hmm.” 

“What?”

Miles frowned. “It’s just odd. I hope she’s alright.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

“Why don’t you go sit with her? Make sure her sister is who she says she is and everything?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” He made his way over and sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs across from Catherine who was munching her way through a chocolate bar. “Hey, feeling any better?”    

Catherine nodded. “My big sis is the best.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” She nodded again, taking another bite out of her candy bar. 

“Is it okay if I ask why you wanted me to call her?”

She frowned, her nose scrunching up. “I can’t read the little numbers, they get all mixed up.”

“The little-?” He pulled the card out and looked at it again. Sure enough, the numbers were small and close together, and he can easily see how they could be hard to read. “Oh. Does she know that?”

“No, it’s a secret.”  

“Does this happen often?” She shrugged and he thought for a minute. “Sometimes, when I read, the letters like to move around and wind up in the wrong order. Is that what the numbers do to you?” 

“Sometimes.”

“It’s not very fun, is it?” She shook her head. He nodded, thoughtfully, and glanced out the window to the parking lot. “What does your sister look like?”

“She’s really pretty.”

He suppressed a chuckle. “Yeah?” 

“Mom says it’s her safing race.”

“Her what?”

Catherine’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Saving race?”

“Oh, saving grace?” As she nodded, he wondered what on earth that meant. Regardless, it wasn’t very helpful information. He was hoping for a description or some way of being sure that whoever came to get Catherine was who she said she was. Legally, he had no responsibility to check who was picking the little girl up, but he would feel better if he knew for sure she was going to be alright.

Catherine’s face suddenly lit up and she pointed out the window. A woman in a sharp suit was hurrying up the walkway to the glass door, her face troubled. Buccaneer realized suddenly he needn’t have worried. He could truthfully say he hadn’t pondered for even a moment what a grown up Catherine would look like, but if he had thought about it, this woman would be it. She had the same long blonde hair and round face, the most noticeable difference being the color of their eyes. Olivier’s were bright blue, where Catherine’s were green. Quite apart from her resemblance to the little girl, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Livvie!” Catherine practically jumped up on the chair as Olivier entered and the woman caught her up in her arms. 

“Cathy, I’m so glad you’re alright!” She smoothed the little girl’s hair, and closed her eyes for a moment, relieved. She opened her eyes and turned to him. “You’re Buccaneer?”

He’s not the kind of person who would hit on one of the kid’s parents or guardians, but apparently that won’t stop him from turning into a blushing, stammering mess. “I-” he was turning red, “-um, yeah. I’m Buccaneer.” 

“Thank you for calling me.” She shifted her hold on Catherine and extended a hand. “And for waiting with her. I really appreciate it.”

“No worries, I couldn’t just leave her.”

She nodded. “Still, thank you.”

“Livvie, can I stay at your house tonight?” 

Olivier’s face fell a little, but she fixed a smile in place quickly. “How about this? I’ll take you to my place and we’ll have some dinner, whatever you want, okay? Then Mom’ll come get you.”

“Okay.” Catherine seemed a little disappointed, but she smiled nonetheless.

Olivier turned back to him. “Go ahead and keep my card, I’ll give her another one. If anything like this happens again go ahead and call me right away, alright?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure.”

She nodded and without another word to him, scooped up Catherine’s book bag and made her way out the door. He watched her leave, wondering if he would ever see her again.

\---

It was a few days before Catherine came by the library again, but she gave him a big grin as she made her way past him on the way to the children’s program. He exhaled, releasing nerves he didn’t know he was still holding on to. 

He caught her attention as soon as the event was over. “Hey, Catherine, how are you?”

“I’m good, thank you Mr. Buccaneer.”

He had to beam as she came up to the edge of the desk, smiling up at him. “That’s great! Was everything okay with your sister?” 

She nodded, biting her lip. “Mom was mad.”

“Oh?” He frowned. “How come?” 

She shrugged. “The nanny was hanging out with Dad and forgot to get me.”

“ _ Oh. _ ” One of the best, and worst things, about children was their innocence and lack of filter. 

“Livvie was even more mad. She was yelling and slamming doors and everything.” 

“Yeah?” He tried not to sound too interested, but he hadn’t been able to get “Livvie” out of his head. 

She nodded again. “Yup. Alex says she used to be angry all the time.”

“Who’s Alex?” He mentally cursed himself. It really shouldn’t matter to him if she had a boyfriend. It definitely wasn’t any of his business. 

“My big brother.”   

“Cool.” He cleared his throat. “Do you need any help picking a new book?” 

“I can find one myself.” 

“Alright, go on then.” He grinned as she headed off to peruse the shelves. He turned back to his work and didn’t see her leave, only knew she wasn’t there when he turned the lights off and locked up for the night.

\---

It was a slow day in the children’s library and Buccaneer wasn’t so much working as using the inter-library messaging system to bug Miles over in the main library when the door opened. He glanced up, fully expecting to smile at a child or parent-child pair and go back to bugging Miles about his date the night before. Instead he found himself turning bright red again. It was Catherine  _ and  _ her big sister. 

“It’s okay, Cathy, I promise.” Olivier, this time wearing jeans, was steering her over with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Go on.” 

“Hey, Catherine.” He leaned across the desk to be closer to her level. She looked distraught and he spoke carefully, shooting Olivier a quick look. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t mean to-” she sniffed, tears welling up in her eyes, “-I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” he grabbed for a kleenex, “don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She reached into her book bag and pulled out a book. There was a tear in the cover. “I forgot it was in my bag-” she hiccuped, “-and I-”

“Oh, I’ve ripped plenty of books before, it’ll be alright.” 

She sniffed. “Really?” 

“Yeah. I mean, we’ll have to figure out how to replace it, but-”

“I’ll handle it,” Olivier said quickly. “But, see he’s not mad.” She shot him a pointed look. 

“Not at all,” he assured.

Catherine eyed him doubtfully. “You’re not mad? Promise?”

His heart clenched at her tearful expression. “I  _ promise _ I’m not mad.”

“I can keep my library card?”

“Sure you can!” 

Her face lit up like a sun. Olivier tapped her shoulder gently, “I told you it would be alright. Why don’t you go look for a new book? You can even get a chapter book, I’ll help you with it.” Catherine nodded and skipped off. Olivier watched her go, a small smile playing across her lips. She turned back, reaching into her purse. “How much is the fine?”

“Oh, um-” he was red again, and he knew it, “-let me just see.” He scanned the book and waited for the computer to pull up the information.

“This might be a stupid question-”

“Oh, there’s not such thing as a stupid question in a library!” He grinned at her, and she raised her eyebrows cooly. He flushed. “Sorry, go on.”

“If I go ahead and take care of this now, our parents won’t be notified or anything, will they?”

“Uh, we usually send a confirmation email to the primary account holder, and since Catherine is a minor that’s probably one of your parents.”

“Oh.” 

He glanced at the computer. “It’ll looks like it’ll send an alert to an Angelica Armstrong.”   

“Is there any way you can turn off the alert?”

He hesitated. “I really shouldn’t-”

“Look-” she leaned down, and his heart jumped into his throat, “-Cathy’s staying with me for a little while. I just don’t want anything to, uh, upset my mom right now.”

“Ah.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I think I can turn it off this time.” He turned it off and checked the replacement cost of the book. “Oh, here we go, it’ll be 1,535 cenz.”

“Right.” She held out a credit card.

“Oh, sorry, I can’t take cards. Do you have cash?” She shook her head. “Check?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

He smiled politely as she dug in her purse and pulled out a checkbook. “You can just make it out to Central City Library.” 

She nodded. “How much was it, again?” 

“One thousand, five hundred thirty five cenz.”

She started writing and then stopped. Her pen hovered above the check for a moment, her other hand twitching at her side. Her brow creased. He glanced at it as subtly as he could. She’d written 1,3- and was frowning at it. Catherine’s words ran through his head.  _ “I can’t read the little numbers, they get all mixed up.” _

“Oh, hey, I forgot to mention! If you want to round up to 1,600 cenz we’ll donate the rest to the Books for Kids program. They send books to children’s hospitals.” 

Her relief was subtle, but palpable. “I’d love to do that!” She voided the check and started a new one. “Here you are.” 

He took and it checked it quickly. “Perfect, let me just write you a receipt right quick and you’ll be good to go.”

She nodded, glancing out to smile at Catherine who had settled herself on a beanbag with a chapter book. He could practically feel the tension radiating off her as she eyed him out of the corner of her eye. He knew she was wondering if he had noticed her mixup with the check because he’d done the same thing on countless occasion.

“Here you are.” He beamed as he handed over the receipt, refusing to embarrass her by giving away that he’d noticed. She murmured a quiet thanks before moving to join Catherine on the beanbags.

He tried not to stare, he really did. But, his eyes kept drifting back to her. She was immeasurably softer this way, her arm around her sister, helping her sound out words and smiling encouragingly as they went. He shook his head to break himself out of it and got up to start tidying the shelves. Children were infamously not good at returning things where they belonged. 

This time Catherine came up to say goodbye before she left. He grinned and asked her if she would be at the next children’s program. Her enthusiastic yes cut over Olivier’s quiet “we’ll see” and he couldn’t help but tell her he was glad to hear it, but gave Olivier what he hoped was an understanding look. She ushered Catherine out without a backward glance.

\---

Craft time with the kids was one of his favorite parts of his job. Tissue paper flowers weren’t a particular speciality of his but they went with the book they had read. And, they were fun. Flowers were being crafted out of all colors and with all degrees of skill.

“Mr. Buccaneer?”

“Yes, Catherine?” He moved over to her table to see if she needed help, but her pale pink flowers were nearly finished. She was wearing jeans today and a t-shirt. A few weeks ago, such a thing would have shocked him, but a lot had been changing since the day she’d been left behind.  

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Uh-” he was caught completely off guard, “-er.”

“My big sister doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh” he said faintly, “that’s nice.” 

“My mom says she needs to get one before she gets old and ugly.”

Oh why wouldn’t the floor open up and swallow him? “Well, I, um, I doubt that’s what your mom meant.”

“She also said ‘you’re not getting any younger, Liv!’ and then Livvie said-”

“Sorry, Catherine, I think I need to go get some more, er, scissors.” He was blushing furiously as he hurried to the supply cupboard. Was he that obvious? Or was Catherine just innocently repeating conversation without realizing what she was implying?

He wasn’t any closer to an answer when Olivier arrived to pick up Catherine. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, trying not to blush. He didn’t know if it worked or not, but she spoke quietly to Catherine for a minute and made her way over.

“Catherine really enjoyed the program.”

“I always enjoy having her here.”

Olivier’s eyebrows rose for half a second. “I’m glad to hear that. I know she can be a little, ah, precocious.”

He grinned. “Oh, we get all kinds here. Nothing I can’t handle.”

She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by the arrival of Catherine with a stack of books. 

“I’m ready to check out now!”

“Wow,” Buccaneer took the stack and began scanning them, “you think you can read all of these before next week?” 

“Yeah! Livvie helps me and we read every night!” 

“That’s awesome!” He grinned at them both, and--was he imagining it?--Olivier blushed.  

\---

He was supposed to be reading to the kids in half an hour, but he was struggling to focus, barely managing a sentence at a time. Groaning, he rubbed his head and set aside the book. It would be an unmitigated disaster.

He pulled up the chat with Miles and typed out a quick message.

_ 01:30 pm _

_ C. Buc: Hey, I’m having a bad brain day. _

_ Can you do the reading?  _

_ 01:31pm _

_ F. Miles: Sure. I have a whole cart to reshelve, though. _

_ 01:32pm _

_ F. Miles: They’re all organized already. _

_ 01:33 pm _

_ C. Buc: I’ll do it. _

_ 01:33pm _

_ F. Miles: I’ll be right there. _

Miles was always popular with the children, even if he wasn’t thrilled by their constant need to compare him to a pineapple, something Buccaneer denied all responsibility for. Reshelving wasn’t the most exciting task ever, but really it wasn’t worth complaining about. Especially as it constituted such a large part of their jobs. Even better, Miles had organized and labeled them so it was a simple matter to walk the cart around and slip the book in place.

He turned down an aisle and saw Olivier holding up a slip of paper and frowning. He pushed the cart up next to her. “Can I help?”

She jumped. “I thought you were the children’s librarian!”

He snorted, “they don’t lock me in there, you know.” She didn’t laugh. “I swapped with my colleague today, he’s doing the reading today.”

“Cathy will be disappointed.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s quite fond of you.”

He smiled. “She’s a good kid.”

She nodded and swallowed. “Yeah.”  

He wanted to ask what was wrong, but doubted she wanted to tell him. “Can I see what you’re looking for?” He nodded at the paper. “I can probably help you find it.” She handed it to him and he nodded at the numbers she’d written. “You’re in the right place. But you don’t see it?” 

She shook her head, “I thought it should be there-” she pointed, “but it’s not.”

“Hmm. Maybe someone picked it up already? If you want I can double-check.”

She hesitated, but then nodded. “Sure.” 

She followed him to one of the ancient resource computers that made an ominous whirring noise as he powered it up. “Hey, what was the title? Sometimes it’s best to check both.”   

Her cheeks pinked ever so slightly. “A Guide to Helping Your Child Understand Divorce.”

“Well, that’s a mouthful.” He smiled at her, typing it in as the screen flickered unhelpfully. “You know, we have some books over in the children’s library specifically aimed at kids whose parents are getting divorced. If you want to read some with Catherine, I can help you find them.”

“What makes you think it’s for Cathy? I might just be doing research,” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. 

“Oh, um,” he pulled on his braid, flushing, “Cathy said your dad was spending time with the nanny-”

_ “Oh.” _

“And the library has subscriptions to a lot of magazines. Some of which can definitely be described as tabloids.”

“I guess it’s not really a secret, then.”

He shook his head. “Sorry if I upset you, I-”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter to me, I just hope that Cathy doesn’t get caught up in it.”

He nodded, unsure what to say, grateful when the computer finally pulled up the information. “Here you go, it says it’s here.” He frowned thoughtfully, pointing at the numerical code “is this what you had written down?” 

She looked at the screen and then at her paper. “Yes.”

He glanced at it, too. “Oh, um-”

“What?” 

“Uh,” he hesitated, “it looks like you switched these two numbers here in the middle.” 

“I-” she holds the paper up to the screen and squints, swearing under her breath. “I’m  _ not  _ stupid, I promise. The stress-”

“I never said you were stupid,” he interjected, quickly, “it happens all the time. No worries.”

“Oh, yeah, I bet that happens a lot in the  _ children’s _ library. I’m a f-” she paused taking a deep breath, glancing around as though she thought Catherine was listening, “-fudging adult.”

“Lots of people have dyscalculia. It’s not a big deal.” 

The vein in her forehead throbbed. “I’ll add that to the list of things I  _ thought _ people didn’t know. Which gossip rag was that in?”

He held up a placating hand, “I was making an educated guess. That crossed the line and I’m sorry, it was just since Catherine said-” he broke off, catching himself.

“Catherine said what?” 

“Sorry, um, well-” She was glaring at him, and the irrational thought that she’d pull out a sword and decapitate him crossed his mind. “Do you remember when I called you to come pick her up?” 

“Of course.”

“I asked her why she wanted me to call you, and she said she couldn’t read the little numbers because they get ‘all mixed up’.” He shrugged. “The pieces just sort of came together.” 

“I see.” She looked a little dazed, though. “Wait, you think Catherine has dyscalculia, too? She never said anything to me.” 

“She said it was a secret when I asked if you knew.”

“What? Why?” 

“She didn’t say, I assume she was embarrassed or--oh, that was rhetorical.”

“I need to go-” she shook her head, “-uh, I just need to go.” 

He wanted to kick himself as he watched her go. He’d really screwed that one up, crossing professional boundaries and embarrassing her. Maybe, if he asked nicely, Miles would put him out of his misery. Probably not, though.

He finished putting up the books in a funk, heading back to sit at Miles’ desk and wait for the children’s program to finish. Not even the ceramic pineapple wearing sunglasses (that he definitely hadn’t bought for Miles himself) cheered him up as he waited.

“Hey.” A soft tap on the desk startled him out of his haze. 

“How can I-oh! Olivier! I’m really sorry-”    

“It’s alright. I feel guilty that I didn’t realize and so I snapped at you, but I shouldn’t have.”

“It isn’t your fault-”

She cut him off again. “Oh, I know. If you read the tabloids, then you probably guessed that my parents are…not going to win any parenting awards.” 

He blushed, “it’s not like I usually read them.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Right.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for letting me know. I know from experience how hard it is, especially when everyone just thinks you’re stupid or lazy, so now that I know I can get her help.”

“Of course. And, it’s not exactly the same, but I have dyslexia so I can relate.”

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. “Well, as I said, I appreciate it.”

The door to the children’s room opened and kids began flooding out. “Oh, that’s my cue. I’d better go swap out with Miles again.”

“And I need to get Catherine.” 

They smiled awkwardly at each other as they moved across the library and lost sight of each other in the crowds.

\---

“Livvie says I’m not supposed to talk to you anymore.” Catherine’s remorseful, but matter of fact, declaration hurt more than he wanted to admit. He wanted to ask her why, but knew that it wasn’t wise. He shot Miles a confused message instead. 

 

_ 01:45 pm _

_ F. Miles: Have you not heard? _

_ 01:46 pm _

_ C.  _ _ Buc: Heard what? _

_ 01:46 pm _

_ F. Miles: Just google “Armstrong” and you’ll see. _

 

Nervously, he did just that. The article he found, over all, was a sordid tabloid take on the Armstrong divorce, in which custody of Catherine was hotly contested.There was a slightly older boy as well, Alex, but he was old enough to have a say in which parent he wanted to live with. Olivier had been granted custody, as he had surmised, to prevent one parent or the other simply taking off with her; they were a family known for dramatics, afterall. 

The problem came in as an attack on Olivier’s ability to care for her sister. “...amid allegations that older sister and temporary guardian, Olivier Armstrong, has been ignoring little Catherine’s learning disability, one which she shares…” 

_ 02:01 pm _

_ C. Buc: Oh no! She must be devastated. _

_ 02:03 pm _

_ F. Miles: ...you don’t sound very surprised. _

_ 02:04 pm _

_ Rather close to our resident celebrity are we? _

_ 02:15 pm _

_ Oh come on, Buc. I’m only teasing.  _

 

It was easy for Miles to tease, and he didn’t blame him for thinking he had a star-struck little crush on her, but he was genuinely concerned. He knew she didn’t want anyone to know about her own struggles, let alone little Catherine’s. If, somehow, someway, she lost custody of Catherine over it she would be truly devastated.

“Hey, Buc.”

“Oh hi, Miles.” He tried not sound to irritated. “What brings you to the children’s library?” 

Miles leaned over the desk, pushing his dark glasses up onto his head. “Are you mad because what I said was true or because it  _ wasn’t _ ?”

“I’m mad because she thinks I had something to do with this!”

“With what?”

“With those tabloids finding out about, you know, the whole dyscalculia thing.”

There was a long pause. “Well, did you?” The look of furious, almost bear-like rage had him physically backing up. “Okay, sorry.” When Buccaneer sighed and put his head down, Miles leaned over the desk again. “Are you sure she blames you?” 

“She told Catherine not to talk to me.”

“Oof.”

“Yup.”

Mles sighed. “That’s rough. Let’s finish the day and go to Schroedinger’s. I’ll buy.”

“Yeah.” It was a testament to the depth of his funk that even the prospect of drinks at Schroedinger’s, payed for by someone else didn’t cheer him up. “Sounds good. Whatever.”

\---

Trouble came when they arrived at Schroedinger’s Bar. It was a mellow one, suited for a science-themed drink or two with conversation, but that didn’t stop Buccaneer’s heart rate from sky-rocketing when he saw Olivier sitting at a table by herself, texting. 

He grabbed Miles’ arm. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

Miles followed his gaze, but shook his head. “Nonsense. This is the only place that won’t be overrun with university students and we have as much right to be here as anyone else.”

“I know, but-”

“Come on, let’s order.” 

Buccaneer reluctantly tore his eyes off Olivier and followed Miles to the bar. Miles, as always, ordered The Curie (which Buccaneer assumed was a ridiculously sweet drink) with no shame. He shrugged and decided to give it a go, since Miles liked it so much. He found his eyes wandering back to Olivier as he waited for it to be ready. Her face lit up suddenly and she waved to someone at the door, getting up to embrace them. It was the tallest woman he had ever seen in his life, probably as tall as himself. 

“Livvie!” 

“Hey, Gini! It’s so good to see you.” 

Apparently, neither of them were good at volume control. Miles glanced at him and rolled his eyes, stomping indelicately on his foot. “You’re staring.”

“It’s hard not to!”

“Okay, wow.”

“Ugh, you know what I mean.” He took a sip of the iridescent pink drink and choked on the unexpectedly strong kick.

“You have got it  _ bad _ , my friend.”     

“Shut up. Actually-” he grinned as an idea struck him, “-let’s talk about you.”

Miles’ cheeks pinked. “Let’s not.”

“You’re coming up on two whole months of seeing the same person. Getting serious, huh?” 

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hmm, with this level of resistance and the fact I haven’t met your mystery beau, I’m starting to wonder if he exists at all.”    

“Okay, now it’s your turn to shut up. Oh, they’re talking about us.”

“Huh? Who?”

“The Armstrong sisters. Actually, I think they’re just talking about you. They don’t look happy.”

“You made me sit with my back to their table, but now you’re telling me what they’re doing? What’s wrong with you?”

Miles grinned. “Sorry, Buc. Oh, I think they’re going to leave. Nevermind, Gini made her sit back down.” 

“Maybe I should talk to her?”

“I didn’t think you’d had that much alcohol.”

“No. I mean explain that I didn’t tell anyone.”

“That’ll go over well.”

“You have a better idea?”

“Yeah, it’s called not letting you make a fool of yourself.” Miles sipped his drink and then choked, his eyes widening comedically. Buccaneer gave him an unimpressed look in response. “She’s coming over here!”

He frowned at the hissed proclamation. “Who?” 

Miles shot him his own unimpressed glower. “Olivier, you dolt!”

“Are you sure-” he broke off as she came into view. “Um, hello.”

“Look, before you get any dumb ideas, I just came to let you know our other sister is watching Catherine tonight. I didn’t leave her alone, so don’t go telling people I did.”  

“Wha-?”

“Livvie, please, let’s just go.”

“No.” Olivier braced herself on the table leaning down to glare at him, though she needn’t have, she wasn’t that tall. “I don’t appreciate your stunt. If Catherine didn’t love the kids’ programs so much I wouldn’t let her go back at all-”

“Wait! I didn’t tell anyone, I swear!”

“Tch! That’s funny, because no one knew before we talked and then after, everyone did.”

Strongine was blushing, tugging futilely on Olivier’s sleeve. Miles was staring uncomfortably into his drink. 

“Well, maybe someone was eavesdropping! Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone else?” 

“I think I would remember if-” she stopped, color draining from her face. “Oh no.”

There was a long pause while they all watched her, unsure if she was a bomb about to go off or diffused. Finally Strongine said tentatively, “Liv?”   

“Remember that argument I had with Dad?” 

“About him telling Catherine not to tell you she was having a hard time with her numbers? It’s hard not to.” 

“I think his girlfriend was there.”

“Oh Livvie.”

Olivier swore quietly. “I fudged up again, didn’t I?” She grabbed Strongine’s arm. “Oh, Gini, I’m so sorry. On your birthday and everything!”

“Oh, happy birthday!” Miles said quickly. 

“Oh, um, thanks.”

“Let me buy you a drink?”

“Uh-”

“How about a snack? Have you tried their Pavlov? Guaranteed to make you drool!” 

Strongine laughed and the two of them moved toward the bar, but not before Miles gave Buccaneer a pointed look. 

“Is he always that subtle?”

“Oh no, sometimes he’s much more obvious.”

She snorted, then sighed, dropping into Miles’ chair. “I suppose I owe you an apology, too.” Buccaneer said nothing, however privately he agreed. “I should have realized the-” she drew a breath, “- _ woman _ that my father is dating was responsible.”

“I’m the stranger here, I understand.”

“Yeah, but she’s a b- um, bird-like person?” 

“Not swearing is hard on you, huh?”

“Shut up.” She sighed. “Anyway, how can I make it up to you?”

“What?”

“The whole falsely accusing you thing.”

“Oh, um, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t like being in debt, so how can I make it up to you?” 

He tugged on his braid and glanced around. “How about you buy me a drink and we call it even?”

“Fine. Another one of-” she frowned, eyeing his drink ”-what is that?”

“I think it’s called the The Curie? I’m not sure, it’s Miles favorite.”

“Okay, well I can’t go up there and by a  _ pink _ drink. I’ll get you an Einstein or an Atomic Bomb if that’s more your speed.”

“Wait, aren’t those the ones that make your hair stand up on end?”

Her only response was a wicked grin over her shoulder.  

\---

“Hey Catherine, all by yourself today?” 

The little girl paused in her trek to the bookshelf to nod at him. “Livvie had to go to a meeting, but she’s going to come right back.”

“Alright, let me know if you need anything.” He turned back to his work--and annoying Miles over instant messenger--keeping half an eye on the few kids milling around the library. After a while, he got up to straighten the shelves, not sure why he bothered given the afternoon rush of children were sure to undo his work.

He didn’t notice the woman with the long dark hair come in, but he saw her crouching to talk to Catherine. They seemed to know each other, but something made him hesitate at the edge of the row and watch. 

“Hi, Catherine. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Why are you here?”

Olivier asked me to come get you.”

Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Why?” A good question in Buccaneer’s opinion. 

“I’ll explain later, she said we can get ice cream on our way. That sounds fun, right?”

“Livvie said she was coming to get me.”

“Well, plans changed. Come on.”

Buccaneer moved from confused to deeply suspicious in a matter of seconds. He hurried quickly to his desk and grabbed the phone, reaching over to grab the business card that he kept in his miscellaneous supplies basket. As the phone rang he glanced out the window and saw  man waiting in a car, which in and of itself wasn’t that odd. What did stand out to him was that the man was almost certainly Philip Armstrong.

“Armstrong.” 

“Hey, Olivier, it’s Buccaneer. Did you send someone to pick Catherine up?”

“What? No! Wh-”

“Okay, hold on, I’m going to call the police.”

“I’ll be right there!” 

He hung up and redialed, turning to make sure Catherine hadn’t left yet. The woman was stilling trying to coax her, but was looking impatient.

“Central City Police-”

“Hey, I’m at the Central City Children’s Library and I think there’s a child abduction underway.”

“Alright, an officer is being dispatched to your location. Can you describe the child?” 

“Yeah, she’s about a meter tall, with blonde hair and green eyes. Her name is Catherine Armstrong.” 

“Okay. And the abductor?” 

“Well, I didn’t get as good a look and I don’t know her, but she has dark hair and, um, I think she’s working with Philip Armstrong.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He’s outside, and I know he’s a non-custodial parent.”

The operator kept him on the line answering questions and keeping an eye on Catherine and the mystery woman. He felt a bit of pride at the way the Catherine was digging her heels in and refusing to go, questioning everything that the she was told. Still, he was growing antsier by the minute, each one seemed to drag out for hours.

At last, a pair of police officers appeared in the doorway. Breathing a sigh of relief he pointed to Catherine who was on her feet, slowly packing up her things. Things got a little hazy after that. There was a lot of questioning and Catherine didn’t seem much more inclined to trust the police officers. 

Olivier burst into the library looking for all the world like she would personally obliterate anyone who dared get near the little girl. Catherine ran to her, and she pulled her into her arms, asking her over and over if she was alright. Buccaneer naively assumed that would be the end of it. 

The police wanted proof that Olivier had the right to take Catherine. She didn’t have the documents with her and an officer who had remained outside was being told a very different story by Phillip. The mystery woman, Solaris, was apparently his girlfriend and Catherine’s former nanny.

“I’ll get my sister to bring the documents, alright?” Olivier was already pulling out her phone. “Just don’t let them take her. We’ll never see her again if they do.”

“Don’t worry,” the officer assured, “ _ no one _ will be leaving until we resolve this.”

This apparently included Buccaneer who found himself being questioned on everything from his relationship to Catherine and Olivier to library policy to why he was a children’s librarian to begin with. Honestly, if he hadn’t been so worried about Catherine he would have found the whole thing rather insulting. Simultaneously, he supposed he could understand. 

A social worker arrived and took Catherine into a glass-fronted mother and child room, where they could see her doodling on spare paper. Olivier came over to talk to him, arms crossed and nervous tension radiating from her in waves. 

“It'll be alright,” he assured fruitlessly, “you'll see.”

“I can't believe he did this!” She didn't seem disbelieving so much as furious, though, hissing through clenched teeth. “The whole reason the judge let me have custody is to stop them trying to use her as a bargaining chip! They’re just overgrown children!” 

Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She surprised him by not shrugging him off. “I never should have left her alone. They’ll probably take her away from me now. I just I  _ had _ to go to the meeting.”

“It’s alright. This is a designated Safe Place, you’re allowed to leave your kids.”

“I  _ know, _ but-”

“But nothing. It’s going to be fine.”

She fell silent for a long moment, staring out the window to where her father’s car was still parked. Her next words were scarcely more than a whisper. 

“Sorry, what?” He leaned in apologetically.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you. For everything. You’ve been phenomenal through all of this, far above and beyond anything I could ever ask for or deserve.”  

“I’ve hardly done anything!” He shook his head, surprised. “I-”

“Cathy likes you. She doesn’t like  _ anyone. _ She’s so shy, you don’t even know how shocked I was when she talked to you at all.”

“Oh.” He felt a warm glow in his chest at that. “She’s a sweet kid.” A moment of bravery overcame him and he squeezed her shoulder. “Must have learned it from her older sister.”

“I-” whatever she intended to say, she didn’t. The door opened and Amue Armstrong pushed her way in, holding a file folder out to them. Olivier rushed to her without another word. 

Things moved surprisingly quickly after that. They had to fill out written copies of what they had told the police officers already, but they allowed Catherine to come out and wrap herself around Olivier again. Watching them leave, he felt certain of one thing, above all others: he didn’t want it to be the last time he saw her.

\---

“Hello.”

“Hi, Olivier!” He glanced around and frowned in confusion. “No Catherine today?”

“She’s at the swimming pool with ‘Mue.”

“Oh. Returning books?”

“No.”

“Okay. What can I do for you?”

“I, um,” she hummed seemingly absently, tapping the desk, “I was wondering--this is going to sound stupid--would you like to get coffee sometime?”

“I-” he blinked, “-you mean a date?”

“Would you like it to be?” 

“Yes!” He cleared his throat, trying to quell his enthusiasm. “I mean, if that’s what you would like.”

She smiled, radiant. “I would like that very much.” For a moment they smiled at each other and then she cleared her throat. “I normally wouldn’t ask something like this while you were at work, I just didn’t know how else to get in touch with you.”

“I don’t mind--oh! Would you like my phone number?” He blushed when she smirked. “Let me see your phone.” She handed it over and he typed his name and number into her contacts. Heat spreading through him as their fingers brushed when he returned it.  

“I’ll call you to set something up, but will you do me a favor?” 

“Sure, what?”

“Don’t mention this to Cathy. I don’t want her to get her hopes up about anything.”

“Of course.”

“Alright.” She smiled again, suddenly seeming awkward. “I’ll see you later?”

“Y-yeah.” 

They were both blushing as she turned away, he watched her go, only turning back to his desk after the door closed behind her. 

_ 03:15pm _

_ Buc: Hey! Do we have any books on how to not ruin your first date??? _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed, and please let me know what you think.


End file.
